Lament
by AranamiTouma
Summary: Campbell drops in on an old friend after Shadow Moses. Mild slash, CampbellRaikov, oneshot


Title: Lament

Pairing: RaikovXCampbell

Warnings: Angst Leik Woah, slight slashy (guyXguy).

Spoilers: MGS3, MPO, MGS1

Wordcount: 1,247

Summary: Campbell drops in on an old friend after Shadow Moses.

Notes: For someone with a VolginRaikov OTP, I'm shipping Ivan with some pretty strange folks.

One-shot, may perhaps become a two-shot (but maybe not); concrit and reviews are welcomed alike; if I did something really stupid, feel free to call me on it.

---

Campbell knocked on the door, and waited.

It was still cold, now, in early April-- but that didn't really bother him. Some time between getting older and being in FOXHOUND, the weather stopped being a concern; he had carried out missions for Big Boss everywhere, at all times of the year, and mid-summer deserts were a bigger problem than a wet and clinging springtime.

He knocked again, and after a few short moments the door opened on a familiar face.

"Roy! My old friend! It's been years." The door opened wider, and Campbell was beckoned inside. "What brings you to my exciting little town?"

"Not much," Campbell said, and smiled at Raikov. "Iowa was only a little out of my way, so I though I'd drop in." He went inside, wiping his shoes on the mat.

Raikov smiled back, his faint laugh lines deepening, and clapped Campbell on the shoulder. "Well, it doesn't matter much why you've come. It's good to see you. Now, come on, let's see what I have to eat-- I wasn't expecting company, so I'm not sure what's edible."

---

They sat in Raikov's living room, sharing a plate of stale supermarket cookies and a bottle of surprisingly good brandy.

Raikov was doing most of the talking, chatting cheerily away about the books he had read, the local college's basketball team, and the weather. Campbell nodded and made polite little noises of acknowledgment, nursing his brandy along for nearly half an hour, until Raikov ran out of small talk and instead set a serious gaze on his friend.

"Are you all right?" he asked, quietly.

Campbell didn't reply for a long moment, staring at his near-empty tumbler. "I don't think I can tell you why I'm not," he finally said. "It has too much to do with Big Boss, and with FOXHOUND." Looking up, Campbell smiled grimly at Raikov. "A lot of our old friend are dead now, you know. People I used to command, or you used to work with."

Raikov looked back, and it suddenly struck Campbell how little his appearance had changed since they first met; his face was hardly lined, his eyes still as bright and his hair as unmilitarily long as the first time he had climbed carefully into the truck.

Jonathan had climbed up behind Raikov, Campbell remembered, and reported smartly to Big Boss that the mission was complete; almost before he finished speaking, Raikov had lunged at Big Boss and punched him. it took the combined efforts of Jonathan, Campbell, and Ostrich to hold him back until he calmed down.

It had been one of the last missions Jonathan had gone on.

_All_ of their old friends were dead, Campbell realized. FOXHOUND was gone, and barely a soul had outlived it. The only ones who had been there at the beginning, had been at _la peninsula de los muertos_, were the two sitting here, retired and tired.

"God. I need more brandy."

Though he laughed, there wasn't much amusement in Raikov's eyes when he leaned over and topped off Campbell's drink.

---

"Sniper Wolf is dead. D'you remember her? Pretty little thing, and half-dead inside and out? She worshipped Boss."

"Everyone worshipped him. It's not an unusual trait." Raikov had wound up sitting next to Campbell, refilling the tumbler now and then, and resting his hand on the back of Campbell's neck. "But yes, I remember her. How did it happen?"

"Solid Snake. He had to. The kid's amazing, you know that?" Campbell raised his glass in a toast. "To killing half your comrades, your father, your brother, and still being sane," and he punctuated it by knocking back what brandy was left in his glass. "Though I'm not really sure the kid is sane. He took on Psycho Mantis, too, and Ocelot-- god, Ocelot. Didn't you know him even before you knew Big Boss? Was he always such a bastard?" In leu of a reply, Raikov reached for the bottle again, but Campbell's hand intercepted his. "No. I'm too drunk already."

Raikov let his hand drop. "All right, Roy." He somewhat suspected that the bottle was empty anyway.

Sighing, campbell set his empty tumbler on the coffee table and leaned his elbows on his knees. "They're all dead, now. There's nothing left of FOXHOUND. We're retired, as much good as it did me, and Big Boss is dead, and Solid Snake ended up killing whoever was left." He smiled bitterly at his hands. "Like father, like son."

"I suppose," Raikov said in a neutral voice, and it struck Campbell how different Raikov was from the sullen and violent officer they had first recruited. He wasn't sure it was a good thing, either. When he had first joined their ranks-- and some of the men had bristled at that, men who had at some point been under his command and hated him-- he had seemed so alive, angry and snapping at every word, roiling with emotion even when silent. Campbell himself had found a reason to fight, then, even if his "fight" was driving a truck and wishing he could go on missions alongside Snake and the recruits.

They had all lost something when Big Boss died.

He could remember it like it was yesterday, when he heard the words "outer heaven"-- it was too much like Gene, and nothing at all like Soldier's Heaven. Campbell hadn't known if Big Boss had gone insane, or was more sane than any of them-- and though he tried not to think of lost companions, he had remembered what Big Boss has said to Jonathan.

_"Prove your loyalty as a soldier."_

Then there was Zanzibar, and that had been worse, but easier, too, because Big Boss had already died. (Not like Gray Fox-- that had been horrible, being given life when you preferred death, living past death as a hideous experiment instead of by insane toughness and persistence. Hadn't the poor guy fought enough?)

Then there had been Shadow Moses, and FOXHOUND had died, and if they lost something with Big Boss, what had they lost with that?

"Roy?"

He dragged his mind from the past. "My niece-- no, my _daughter_. She was almost a casualty, too."

"That must have been... pretty bad." Raikov's hand was rubbing the back of his neck gently, and Campbell wondered _when_ it was Raikov lost that vivid anger.

"They used her to make me come out of retirement, to command a mission I didn't even want to know about." The alcohol was making this easier, making him feel almost numb. "She's going to be fine, but it was close. Instead, they killed FOXHOUND, and that's-- that's--"

Campbell's vision was blurry, and if he didn't know he was as tough as boot leather, he might think he was crying.

"I know," Raikov said. "It's even worse."

Suddenly, the brandy wasn't working anymore, and everything was horrible again, and he probably was crying, because Raikov _did_ know and not being alone was worse, so much worse.

He was barely aware of Raikov smoothing his hair and saying it was all right, and stared blankly when Raikov tilted his face up with a finger under his chin. "Roy," Raikov said, "it might feel like the end of the world, but it's not. It will get easier, someday."

Campbell wondered when Raikov had moved from sitting beside him to leaning in front of him, and then stopped caring when Raikov leaned in closer to kiss him.


End file.
